In 7 words
by Fantasy Ella
Summary: Dramione in 7 words, with explanation of course!  Written for Serendipity-Saga's birthday.


**Disclaimer: **I dis-claim everything...

**A/N: **This story was my first try on a Dramione story, and it was written for Serendipity-Saga's birthday.

* * *

><p><strong>Daft <strong>

It was the first year after the war, and people were trying to rebuild there lives.  
>They had won the war, but they hadn't been victorious.<br>Lots of people had died.  
>Others were held responsible.<br>They were punished.

One of them was Draco Malfoy.

Today was his trial, and he was looking at a life-long imprisonment in Azkaban.

The judge ranted on about the deeds of the Malfoy family. How Draco's father had killed, how his aunt had tortured and so on.  
>The 18 year old sitting chained in the chair felt his hart sunk. He had no chance at all…<p>

They didn't even care what he did or did not do. He could tell it by the way they looked at him.  
>They thought he was daft, a dangerous, crazy pureblood fanatic, like all his ancestors before him.<p>

Little did he know that in the back of the dungeon, a young woman was thinking the exact opposite.

_She_ thought the judge and the rest of the people in there were daft.  
>'A prejudiced, hypocritical bunch ', she called them.<br>They wanted to put him on trial because of his blood… his Malfoy blood. But wasn't that what this was all about? Blood prejudices?

She huffed.

They were all daft!

* * *

><p><strong>Ear-splitting<strong>

"So, basically, you are punishing _him_ because of what his ancestors did?" A clear voice interrupted the list of crimes.

Everyone looked up to see who had dared to stand and speak in favour of the traitor Malfoy.

Draco tried to crane his neck, a nagging feeling in his head that he _knew_ that voice. He _knew_ who was talking. But she would never… Draco refused to believe that _she_ of all people would help him.

The silence was ear-splitting when everyone looked over and saw who had opposed to Malfoy's punishment.

"Miss Granger?" The judge blinked. "What exactly do you mean with your statement?"

Hermione stood up determinately, "By punishing him because his whole family had blood-prejudices against muggles, you are actually holding blood-prejudices against his family." she stated.

Some people gasped, while others just stood there staring. Where was she going with this?

"Draco Malfoy isn't a bad man! He couldn't kill anyone, even when Voldemort himself ordered him to, and I'm quite sure he still wouldn't do anyone any harm now, either. There is nothing specific to hold against him!"

The judge raised and eyebrow, "Then what would you suggest, Miss Granger?"

"I suggest that you leave him to me…"

Again the silence… ear-splitting

* * *

><p><strong>Super-cali-fragilistic-expialidocious<strong>

"So, Draco, I hope you know something about working?" Hermione questioned him brightly.

She had been dashing around happily ever since she saved him.

Draco nodded solemnly. He was still a bit suspicious to _why_ she helped him. She should hate him!

"Perfect!" she continued, "I honestly have _no_ contacts whatsoever in this shop-keeper world, but tomorrow, you and I are going to find our first sponsor!"

When she beamed up at him, Draco couldn't help but smile back. Her enthusiasm was catching, he noticed. He also noticed that the way she flipped her hair out of her eyes when she was dancing from rack to rack was quite attractive. Wait… he noticed what? No! He couldn't be thinking like that! He forced the thoughts to the back of his mind.

Yet, Draco had a good feeling about this. This might be an interesting year to come…

"It's going to be perfect" He thought.

"No it isn't," Hermione replied – damn, had he really said that out loud? – "It's going to be better than perfect! It's going to be fantastic! It's going to be Super-cali-fragilistic-expialidocious!"

Draco blinked. "It's going to be _what_?" he questioned; almost sure that he misunderstood her.

"_Super-cali-fragilistic-expialidocious_!" She repeated, dancing through the shop.

Draco shook his head. Hermione Granger, bookworm and social no-no, had stood up for her worst enemy against a whole court of people, and was now _dancing_ in a shop, in front of that same enemy.

He couldn't help but notice that she looked rather cute while she was dancing.

'_Indeed'_, he thought '_This year _is_ going to be Super-cali-fragilistic-expialidocious'_

* * *

><p><strong>Tabloid-worthy<strong>

The whole wizarding world had been buzzing about it for weeks.

_Draco Malfoy_, son of a notorious Death Eater, was now working and living in with _Hermione Granger_, muggleborn and Golden Girl.

Draco and Hermione didn't care though. During the year, they had discovered that they were able to actually _like_ each other, now that the whole enemy/mudblood/death eater thing was gone.

They ran a good business in their shop.

"Hello, good morning, welcome in Granger-Malfoy potions shop, can I help you?" Draco said politely.

The client's mouth dropped open. Jeffrey had been two years below the golden trio in Hufflepuff, and every time Malfoy passed him, he had either been ignored, or got a snappy remark thrown at his head.

"I… err… Well…" Jeffrey stuttered "Searching… err… hair-grow... thought… potion…"

"So I take it you're looking for a hair-grow potion?" Draco questioned him without even twitching his mouth into his trademark smirk.

Jeffrey nodded.

"Hey, Hermione?" Draco said, turning towards the back of the shop, "Can you come for a second, please? I need some help…"

"That kind of potions needs to be adjusted to the kind of hair you have. Mostly, I make the basic potion, and she adds the adjustments," Draco explained.

He bended over conspiratorially; "I must admit that I'm not so good at recognising the distinctions in between different kinds of hair… Must be a female thing!"

After Hermione came in, studied Jeffrey's hair and asked him a few questions, Jeffrey was ready to leave the shop. They would owl him the potion when it was ready, they said.

When Jeffrey was gone, Draco burst out in laughter.

"What?" Hermione asked frowning, trying to sound disapproving, but unable to stop smiling herself. His laughter was _so damn_ contagious!

"It's not nice to laugh with a client, you know… If you were losing your hair at this age, you wouldn't like it either!"

"It's not _that_!" Draco brought out between two fits of laughter. "It's the way he was looking at me! Like I had suddenly grown a second head!"

Hermione smiled. "You have changed Draco… You smile, you are polite… No more snapping, scolding, smirking..."

"Oh no?" Draco questioned, putting his smirk in place.

"Well, maybe _some_ smirking…" Hermione sighed "But _that's_ a cute smirk. "

Draco rose and eyebrow, "A _cute_ smirk? Oh Merlin's hairy toes, I'm turning into a puppy!" he said in mock-horror.

Hermione smirked back at him "If you did _that_, the tabloids wouldn't talk about anything else for months!"

He grinned, "What can I say? I'm just so damn tabloid-worthy!"

* * *

><p><strong>Imaginative<strong>

They ran the shop for three moths now, and that was worth a party, Hermione decided. They hadn't even given the traditional openings-party – because Draco refused – but now, she would keep on nagging until he gave in, Hermione decided grinning.

"Draco?" She started the next morning, interrupting him while making an anti-bug potion.

"Hmm?" he murmured, trying to keep his attention on the potion.

"I was thinking that maybe we could have a shop-party now…" She beamed.

"Draco looked up from his work, "No!" he all but shouted. Hermione jumped back surprised.

"Why not?"

Draco sighed "Listen, I've just never been the one for parties… I hated them when I was small, and I still hate them now. Besides, who would ever want to come to a party hosted by a _Malfoy_?" he pronounced the name with disgust, still mixed with a strange kind of half-evaporated pride.

"Oh, come on, Draco!" Hermione cried out exasperated. "You _know_ they're already over it! Our clients _adore_ you!" She sighed "And it's not like you're going to have to host the party all by yourself! I'll help."

Draco just shook his head and bended over the cauldron to continue his work, ignoring her.

Hermione gritted her teeth. She would get him to be social again… She could be quite imaginative when she wanted something. And –O– how she wanted this…

The next days, Draco seemed to find the word 'PARTY' in _every_ single thing he did.

When he was brewing a potion, the smoke coming from the cauldron formed the word in the sky.

When he was painting the storeroom, the stripes in the paint would spell it.

When he was trying to eat, his food would order itself in a pattern making the word.

It drove him mad.

Every time, he attempted to talk to Hermione about it, she would just brush him off, or pretend to be busy with something else…

About a week after it started, Draco was at breaking point.

He saw the word in front of him every time he dared close his eyes.

That was not all she did, though…

Everywhere, in each and every room within the shop he went, he always saw a flash about how it would look like when the party was going. And he had to admit, it looked like…fun. He cringed. No! He was NOT giving in to her tricks. He was stronger that that!

He lasted one more week…

He had to give in to her.

If she wanted, she _could_ be quite imaginative…

* * *

><p><strong>Not-too-drunk<strong>

The party was going smoothly.

Draco had been nervous as hell when the first people started entering, but he concealed it, quickly putting his trademark smirk in place. He was quite good at appearing self-confident, being a guy who had been keeping up appearances his whole life.

It wasn't that hard to _pretend _to be having fun, but what him surprised, was that after a while, he actually had fun, instead of just pretending.

Hermione was rather enjoying herself. She danced around, casually chatting with everyone. She spotted Harry and Ron and made her way towards them to catch up.

Draco and Hermione both had been busy the whole night. Everyone went searching for the two young partner-shopkeepers to congratulate them with their success.

They were approached from every possible side with congratulations and drinks.

Needless to say that by the end of the evening, both of them were _rather_ intoxicated.

Luckily Draco had the smart idea of subtly feeding some of his drinks to the plant in the corner.

It was getting late, but the party was still in full swing.

Draco, getting tired and bored, plumped down into a sofa. He sighed. Almost everyone around him was drunk and the whole place smelled like alcohol and sweat. That would be one hell of a clean-up in the morning!

Suddenly, he felt two arms wrapping around his neck from behind.

"What…?" He started, planning to chuck the –most likely drunk – woman on the floor.

"You see?" Hermione's voice interrupted him. Even though she looked quite intoxicated, she could still say intelligible sentences.

"You see parties are not _that_ bad?" she giggled, and Draco observed her dumbstruck.

Then he smirked; a drunken Hermione was actually quite entertaining.

"My, my, Hermione… Are we a drunk?" He said taunting.

"No! I'm not!" She protested vaguely.

"I think you are…" he smirked.

"No!"

Draco laughed and decided to pester her a bit with it. She looked so cute when she was angry.

"What a way to take your responsib …" the sudden pressure of her lips on his made him unable to utter the rest of the sentence.

He felt himself deepen the kiss, get lost in her scent, the feeling of her arms around his.

"Draco?" She brought out shyly, "I think I might like you…"

Draco looked down on Hermione and got all warm on the inside. He smiled tenderly. "I…"

Then reality hit him. She was _drunk_! Of course! He should have known that that was the reason she was like this. She probably wouldn't even remember what she did the next morning.

He cursed quietly, attempting to push Hermione of his lap. "Hermione, no, you're drunk…" he protested weakly when she held on to him.

He heard her whispered reply right before her lips hit his again.

"Not _too drunk…_"

* * *

><p><strong>YOU-like<strong>

A small family of three disappeared through the brick wall in between platform 9 and 10, King's Cross station.

"Come _on_, Dad!" a tiny girl with curly sand-coloured hair squealed excited. "Hurry up! I want to go to school!"

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"You'd think kids would like their holidays more," he commented, turning to face his wife.

Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy smiled.

"Oh _please_… Don't tell me _you_ didn't look forward to go to Hogwarts in you first year."

In response, Draco grumbled something unintelligible. Hermione smiled triumphantly and punched her husband playfully in the stomach.

"I feel a little neglected though…" he said, choosing to ignore the punch. "It seems as if she's _happy_ that she won't see us for such a long time."

"Oh, cheer up! You _know_ she doesn't think like that! She's just happy to be able to learn new stuff!" Hermione said brightly, making Draco roll his eyes.

"You wanted to go to school to actually _learn_ things?" he smiled "There are so many better reasons to go to that place!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and wha…" she started

"Mum! Dad!" Her daughter's voice interrupted.

Both parents stood there smiling when she approached them in a fast pace.

"I've got to go now! I have to look for a compartment, getting redressed…" she ranted.

"That's alright, honey, just go." Hermione said "We will miss you!"

The girl gave them both a quick hug before running to the train, her long hair sweeping behind her. "Bye mum, dad! Write me!" she called.

Thick, gray smoke emitted from the scarlet train. Then he started moving.

Long after the train was gone, only a few people were still standing on the platform. Hermione turned to look at her husband, who was standing there, staring at the place where the train had disappeared with a huge smirk on his face.

"What?" she questioned him curiously.

He snickered, "She's just so… YOU-like…"

* * *

><p><em>Happy Birthday Dest!<em>

_I hope you liked this... ^^_

_I wish you a..._

_Daft,  
>Ear-splitting,<br>Super-cali-fragilistic-expialidocious**,**  
>Tabloid-worthy,<br>Imaginative,  
>Not-too-drunk,<br>YOU-like,_

_Birthday! _

_~xXx~_

_Ella_


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